Nearly a year and a half before the next federal election, Justin Trudeau’s re-election campaign — in India — took a weird turn.

India has big plans: The government in New Delhi foresees investments of US$4.5 trillion by 2040 on clean power, bridges, dams, roads and modern urban infrastructure. Leaders from Europe, South Korea, China and Japan are sharply focused on Indian markets, and their country delegations are making significant inroads.

Canada, in spite of its deep expertise in infrastructure development, as well as its much touted Sikh diaspora, is struggling to improve trade with India — currently a miniscule $8 billion a year, nearly the same volume as its daily business with the United States.

In 2010, the Stephen Harper government proposed a Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement (CEPA) between the two countries. It’s been debated and negotiated ad nauseam, and Trudeau’s visit could have resulted in a break-through: a true feather in the prime minister’s cap.

However, it became clear early during his visit that bi-lateral discussions were downgraded and the Indian side valued containment of Sikh separatists in Canada over any trade deal.

Last Wednesday, while Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi was launching the “trillion dollars” infrastructure investment summit in Lucknow, capital of the State of Uttar Pradesh, our Minister of Infrastructure was baking chapattis at the famed Harimandir Sahib in Amritsar. And while the team from Canada was hobnobbing with the stars of Bollywood, business leaders from other countries were negotiating partnerships in R & D in quantum-computing in India’s silicon valley in Bangalore.

No visiting dignitary with a view to expanding trade with India has ever missed an opportunity to meet with the tech titans of this city. The absurdity of Trudeau’s itinerary in India is baffling, to say the least.

While Indians predictably went gaga over Trudeau’s “cute” family garbed in Sikh attire and kneading dough at the Golden Temple along with his four Sikh cabinet colleagues, the symbolism of the act was not lost on the political establishment. When Sophie Grégoire-Trudeau posed with a Indo-Canadian Sikh separatist, Jaspal Atwal — convicted of attempted murder of an Indian politician in 1986 — the reaction was swift and predictable.

Subsequent discussions with Indian officials morphed into defensive posturing and damage control.

Trudeau’s misadventure in India is entirely of his own making. Compared to China, India is low-hanging fruit when it comes to trade, as long as you do not interfere with its complicated domestic politics. While the victory lap of four senior cabinet ministers of Sikh heritage might hold political advantage for the Liberals in Canada, the government’s approach was misinformed and myopic.

True to his style, about 12 hours before his formal talks with Trudeau, Modi set the tone for the talks with a warmly fuzzy and meaningless message. He tweeted how much he was looking forward to meeting with the First Family of Canada, particularly the children.

Was Trudeau snubbed (that is, treated with disdain or disrespect)? Not at all. He was graciously greeted, hugged and embraced by his counterpart. The interactions were full of bonhomie — yet punctuated with awkward silences — just like when an important but distant relative comes calling. No business; only small talk. At lunch, effusive compliments were exchanged. Modi played with the Trudeau kids and likely cracked a joke about Trudeau’s chapatti-rolling skills.

Then the charming Trudeaus said their adieus, and everyone went back to work.

Gurprit S. Kindra is a professor at the Telfer School of Management, University of Ottawa.